Lightberry Heights
by 6017200
Summary: (AU) - Irascible, and with a penchant for bad first impressions, the now in love Ichigo K. tries to escape all that still binds him while his neighbor, Rukia K attempts to solve her uncertainties about one bad-tempered doctor. But how much will fate intervene before serendipity becomes nothing more than a missed opportunity? IchiRuki
1. Chapter 1

**Hello, first time writer here without a beta reader so forgive the mistakes if there are any. It has been edited a few times but this language isn't my first so some things may sound quite odd, sorry . Please leave a review and let me know what you guys think of it and/or if it should be continued. Thank you and enjoy.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything in this text except for the plot.**

- Visually Appealing -

14th April 2012 – 0106 hours

Kuchiki Rukia had just started living in a one room apartment and every night since her first she has been hearing the drunken demeanours from the apartment next door. She had yet to meet her neighbour in person although there were plenty of notorieties about the mystery neighbour's alcoholic tendencies courtesy of the other residents of the run-down apartment complex.

So it occurred to her upon seeing the unconscious man, reeking of alcohol and sprawled face down on the staircase at 1 o'clock on a Saturday morning, she presumed he was most probably the elusive neighbour everyone had been talking about. Rukia manoeuvred her way around the stranger and entered her apartment, being mindful of not rousing the possibly violent drunk.

Minutes turned into hours and Rukia's conscience got increasingly burdened as she the morning air become progressively chilly.

Unable to maintain her indifference any longer, she got out of bed and went straight to her front door, all the time wishing that the man had somehow gotten sober enough to get into his own apartment and hadn't froze to death. Much to her frustration, Christmas did not in fact come early this year and he was still on the ground, out cold – literally.

Hoping her next move would not be her last, she started to look for keys, although the lack of proper illumination from the derelict building made her goal a difficult one. 10 minutes later and after a generous amount of cursing at how heavy the man was, she managed to set him onto the futon laid out messily on the tatami covered floor.

Once she caught her breath, she decided to entertain her curiosity and looked at the man's face. She couldn't help wanting to know what he looked like. He had been such an enigma, this supposedly vehement drunkard she had for a neighbour. Funnily enough, Rukia felt guilty for it. There was something morally incorrect about looking at a completely defenceless man while he was unconscious. However, the guilt was soon replaced with a feeling of disbelief.

The man still reeked of alcohol, made no mistake, but if one could switch off one's sense of smell for a while, the image in front of Rukia could've warmed the heart of any cold blooded animal. He looked endearingly boyish, laying there so relaxed – well he was unconscious, you really couldn't get any more relaxed than that.

She took in his straight aquiline nose and continued to his slightly parted lips that lead down to a strong chin and a masculine jaw. Even his shocking orange hair did nothing to dampen his good looks, if anything it she though it suited him – well it did seem to suit his rumoured irascible nature. She wondered what colour his eyes were but a groan from the object of her scrutiny woke her from her stupor and quickly reminded her that it was way past the time that was appropriate for her to be in the apartment of a man she wasn't acquainted with – even if he was her neighbour.

* * *

14th April 2012 – 0840 hours

Kurosaki Ichigo woke up to the same thing he had been waking up to for the past 5 months – a splitting headache that could have only resulted from his favourite form of escapism – alcohol. He couldn't even be bothered trying to piece together the haphazard memories from the previous night. He had given up trying before he even acknowledged his problem with the bottle.

This morning was different however. This morning he woke up to a glass of water and a packet of paracetamol right next to him. He was fairly certain that a) he hadn't developed a talent for advanced sleep-walking, and b) leprechauns did not habitually visit passed out drunkards. So the only option left was c) someone decided to pull out the 'good Samaritan' card last night, presumably the person who wrote the note placed conveniently underneath his set of keys next to the glass of water he was currently gulping down.

_Hope your hangover isn't too bad._

_Good luck! : )_

Ichigo scoffed at the emoticon but then deadpanned at the note itself – short but so infused with cheer he felt disgustingly saturated by it.

'Good luck! : )'

He crumpled the piece of paper and threw it against the wall. It simply bounced back at him. He stared at it as the grooves between his brows began to form a scowl.

"Luck? If there is such a thing, I sure could've used it 5 months ago."

* * *

16th April 2012 – 1255 hours

"You know, it's part of the bride's job to attend the cake testing of her own wedding. Not send her best friend to do it in her place." Rukia stated matter-of-factly to the bride-to-be outside of Tokyo-Seiretei Private Hospital, the largest, most advanced and exclusive hospital in Japan. Placed at the top-end of the healthcare industry, it was the go-to hospital for any and all of those who could pay top dollar for the uppermost service, cutting-edge technology and the privacy that came along with it.

While Mastumoto Rangiku, nurse extraordinaire and soon to be Mrs Ichimaru Gin preferred to think the pair were spending lunch break productively multitasking, Rukia favoured the blunt truth that they were having lunch while trying to form some kind of cohesive seating plan for the upcoming wedding. The fact that Rangiku hated any form of paperwork only made the mission doubly challenging.

"Believe me I wanted to but contract renewals are up this week and at the rate the director's been cutting people, I wouldn't be exaggerating if I told you the whole staffs is high-strung. Arghh… it's the worst part about working in the private sector. If only he wasn't such a dick!"

The last comment earned them more than just a few glances but Rangiku in 'distress mode' was far from concerned over such social proprieties.

"Who, your boss?" Rukia asked nonchalantly without even looking up. Honestly, she cared more about getting the damned thing done and getting back to the office on time compared to Rangiku's work woes.

"Everyone's boss! He's the friggin..!" Rangiku paused, ducked her head and continued in an angry whisper, "He's the friggin director, he owns this hospital and he acts like he owns everyone that works in it! So what if he's loaded and somewhat visually appealing? I'm willing to bet my contract that he hasn't gotten a woman who isn't a patient to strip for him in his lifetime, that ill-tempered S.O.B."

"What do you think about putting Jaegerjaquez here?" Rukia motioned with her pen.

"No, he'll be in Gin's line of sight if he sits there. Put him on a table behind us. Hey! Are you even listening to me?"

"Yes, I am. Something about your boss contracting an illness from a stripper right? Anyway, why are you inviting your ex again?"

"If you can't figure that out on your own, as a fellow member of the female race I'm inclined to slap you in the face and side note, you are totally ignoring me!" For added effect, she slammed her hand on the piece of paper her best friend and volunteer wedding planner was mulling over all the while struggling to maintain an angry façade before breaking into a mirthful smile.

"Sod off…" Rukia's laughed. It was always refreshing to be around Rangiku. The woman was a part-time loon and had more opinions about everything than anyone else she had come across so far but she was also fun, vivacious and hilariously honest at times. There were so different, but somehow balanced each other out. She always thought her childhood friend was the peanut to her butter. Emphasis on the 'nut'.

"Oh shoot, speak of the orange devil! Gotta run. See you at the dress rehearsal?"

Rukia offered a curt nod and turned to the direction Rangiku was looking before she ran off.

Onyx eyes went straight to the man her friend was undoubtedly referring to. Even without the eye-catching hair, it was impossible to miss him. He was the type of man that demanded peoples' attention; his confidence affected everyone around him, his presence positively dominating…

Rukia thought he was large when she was awkwardly lugging the man. But upright, it was obvious that he was easily 6 feet tall, probably even taller. His movements held a quiet ferocity, almost predatory, and harboured a dignified masculinity. His expression was set in a deep scowl although it hardly mattered. She had thought he was endearingly boyish, but now, seeing him in the white coat stalking in her direction, cold and clearly sober, she knew better.

Her neighbour was dangerously sexy.


	2. Chapter 2

**Thanks for those who took the time to review the first chapter :D  
I had a hard time with this chapter as it's mostly a transitioning chapter since I'm not very capable of long chapters. I'm not very happy with it but hopefully the following chapters will flow better as more exciting things start to happen. **

**Disclaimer: Don't own anything.**

CHAPTER TWO: Cliché

**16th April 2012 – 2030 hours**

Impossible.

It was impossible to get him out of her mind, especially now that she knew the colour of those domineering amber eyes. She felt her very soul leaking through every pore, drawn from her bones, inhaled through the lips of the man she couldn't take her eyes off. The disequilibrium elicited from the sight of him felt like an amalgam of fear, thirst and aberrant excitement. It was giddying, almost disorienting, bordering lunacy…

But now that Rukia was calm and in the comfort of her own home, thoughtlessly ironing her shirts, she wondered about the distinctness of that encounter.

It wasn't the first time she saw him. So what brought about that rush of emotion? What was different that time? Was she possibly attracted to that scowl? Maybe it was the angry look in his eyes? Or was it the forceful aura shrouding him that bulldozed through the ambience? Whatever it was, she was sure her neighbour had more to him than he was ready to disclose.

It was easy enough to find out his name. All it required was entering the first site of the twenty-nine million search results for Tokyo-Seireitei Private Hospital on Google and a few seconds later she was learning basically everything regarding his professional life. 29 years old… University of Tokyo Medical School graduate… Specializing in cardiology… Surgical residency at 26 years old… Took over in 2011 as director from Kurosaki Isshin who established TSP Hospital and brought it to the global prominence it has today… Member of the Shihoin Clan through maternal parentage… The rest of his biography was filled with the standard critical appraisal one would normally expect from an elite of the health industry.

So why was a thoroughbred like him living in this part of town?

Kurosaki Ichigo was definitely more than meets the eye.

* * *

**20th April 2012 – 1145 hours**

Kurosaki Ichigo downed his glass of bourbon and relished the familiar burning sensation that the traveling liquor left in its track. He had drunk enough in the past 2 hours to make his liver loathe him for the next 2 days but that didn't stop him from pouring another glass. The bottle being empty however did.

Quarter to midnight. He still managed to tell time. This meant he wasn't near as drunk as he wanted to be. But at least he was numb. Numb was good. Numb meant he was still alive. Being alive meant he could continue drinking.

"Youngin, I'm starting to think you live here." A shaggy blond dressed in something that can only be described as gaudy seated himself right across Ichigo.

"Should I start paying rent old man?"

"Kid, the amount of money you've spent here trying to drink yourself to death has already earned you a permanent spot in my 'humble' establishment". Theatrics came easy to Urahara Kisuke.

"Good to know". Just as well that Ichigo had the sort of cash to frequent the luxurious hotel for its overpriced liquor without putting a dent in his bank account. He liked the solitude the place afforded him.

"Which is why, as the acting landlord, I'm kicking you out. Permanently."

"What the fuck Urahara?"That managed to get a reaction out of the terse man.

Seemingly unperturbed, the older of the two continued "And don't forget your speech the Shihoin Foundation Charity Ball next month. You didn't-"

"Don't say that name in front of me!" Ichigo spat through clenched teeth. "What's this bullshit about kicking me out? Did Yoruichi put you up to this?"

"The only thing your aunt has ever put me up to doing is to make sure you don't slip into a self-induced coma. I'm kicking you out on my own accord. Isshin may let you do as you like but the Shihoin Clan has been keeping their eye on you and there's only so much Yoruichi can do to keep them off your case"

"I don't her to keep that sack-o-shit clan off my case".

"The only reason you're still in charge of that hospital is because that sack-o-shit clan has been looking out for you. Plus your mother started the Shihoin Foundation, you owe it to her to at least attend".

"The only reason I'm still in charge of that hospital is because keeping up the pretence of nobility is only thing that clan is good for and don't bring my mother into this".

"Really? Cos from where I'm standing, you sure need somebody to bring something into this self-indulgent shithole you've landed yourself in."

"Then stop standing and take a fucking seat! Who are you to judge someone else's hedonism?"

"Hedonism? That's your euphemism for getting shitfaced drunk? Ichigo, you can keep beating up yourself over what happened but it's not going to change anything."

"I'm not looking to change anything. This self-indulgent shithole I've landed in is just perfect for me".

* * *

**21st April 2012 – 0230 hours**

Ichigo groaned as the first pangs of nausea begin to surface just as he was about to enter the apartment. He had left the hotel bar in a fit of pique after Urahara had turned what might have been another perfectly banal evening into an unfortunate bar hopping exercise where the music was too loud, the people too dopey, and the women relentless. If he wasn't so god-damned drunk, he would have been more irritable rather than just feeling listless.

Ichigo felt the sudden rush of saliva and knew he was about to be sick and sure enough the sounds of purging soon filled the quiet corridor. Resting his head on the wall, Ichigo could only laugh at how pathetic he had become. The mighty sure had fallen.

* * *

**29th April 2012 – 01030 hours**

_'English muffin in fridge'_

The same set-up, the same handwriting. He sure had one nosy neighbour. This must be the sixth time he had woken up in bed when he shouldn't have been. It was a nice sentiment but even he'd have to admit that whoever was living next door was being far too careless. People wouldn't normally take such care of strangers much less strangers who get drunk habitually do they?

* * *

**29th April 2012 – 01100 hours**

If the pain was anything to go by, Rukia was fairly sure she had twisted something. "Ouch! Damn something's twisted alright" The fall she had tripping over one of Rangiku's many, many wedding gifts was spectacularly unspectacular for the amount of sound it generated. The silence of the aftermath was soon followed by an unexpected knock on her door to which she managed to get to by executing the gentlest of hops.

Rukia started to bead sweat upon see Kurosaki Ichigo's handsome albeit distorted face through the peephole. "Shittttttttttt.." Kurosaki Ichigo was definitely not on her list of callers on a lazy Sunday morning. Sure she had been somewhat taking care of him for the past few weeks but never in one of her many, many thought up fantasies did she imagine herself meeting him with a knee swollen to the size of a grapefruit.

"Hello? I heard something crash. You okay in there?"

"Er… erm…" The words came out no louder that her previous. She instinctively put her back to the door, as if it would somehow protect her as she hoped he would get bored and leave. An angry and unconscious Ichigo she could handle, but a benevolent Ichigo? It was so out of character of him it left her uncharacteristically nervous.

"Hello?" Damn he's still out there. "If you're hurt would you call out or something? If not I'm gonna have to break down the door"

Whatever doubt Rukia had as to whether he would do just that vaporised before the sentence was even complete and in a flash, she threw open the door but in her attempt to appear as unaffected as possible, she forgot the injury from her earlier mishap which ultimately resulted in her tumbling forwards, downwards and inwards into a wide-eyed Ichigo.

Talk about cliché.

**XD **


	3. Chapter 3

**This chapter is far from perfect but it's 3 am and my baby nephew is an early riser (T.T) I have to go to bed so sorry for mistakes. I'm hoping there are no incongruities with the previous chapters. I've have the main plot sussed out but some minor details sometimes slip under my radar since they change quite a bit.**

CHAPTER THREE: Want

29th April 2012 – 1055 hours

Kurosaki Ichigo took a bite out of the English muffin he had in one hand while towelling his bright orange hair with the other. It was still damp from his recent shower. The muffin was good. He wondered if it was homemade.

-crash-

The sound coming from the neighbouring apartment suggested that his 'phantom neighbour' had something to do with it. Oh well, it wasn't something that he should really concern himself with. He never asked for the kindness that the person next door displayed so he really shouldn't feel indebted to anything right? He took another bite out of the muffin.

"This is good…" he said as he stared at the half eaten muffin. Maybe he should go over and check that everything was alright. Thus, seeking freedom from a triviality that could possibly become another source of guilt – something he had plenty in possession – yet still confident that regret was imminent; he made his way over and knocked on the door, calling out "Hello? I heard something crash. You okay in there?"

He waited for an answer while curiosity simmered beneath his spiritless expression. He tried to stop himself from wondering what kind of person lived beyond the door in front of him but as the moments passed by, the simmer of curiosity threatened to bubble over. Would it be a man or a woman? Surely a woman. It had to be a woman. He had a hard time imagining a man doing the things his neighbour had. Anyone would. 'A woman then', he concluded inwardly, a woman who must have had a hell of a hard time dragging his sorry ass into his own apartment time and again. He was conflicted whether as to commend his neighbour's kindness or to condemn her absolute lack in sense and sense of danger.

'Neighbour, neighbour, neighbour'. Ichigo was starting to get sick of the word and his mood started to blacken. It was irritating knowing that this person had entered his apartment on multiple occasions, left him food on multiple occasions, and had seen him at his worst on multiple occasions while here he was, trying to justify her gender right outside her door! He had to know her name – preferably before he decided to put his fist through the door – and he wanted to put a face to her name. He called out once more, this time his words were laced with more than just a hint of impatience, "If you're hurt would you call out or something? If not I'm gonna have to break down the door". He meant it too – it was more efficient than creating a fist sized hole in it after all – but at that point, he was quite unsure whether it would be to the end of helping a person in need or to satisfy his own ill-tempered curiosity.

A curiosity which was immediately satiated when the door flew open without warning and a panicked, petite woman on unbalanced feet found herself quickly heading face first into what would have been yet another fall if Ichigo's body had not reacted on instinct and caught her. Taken aback as he was during that fraction of a second, his mind was still able to take in the sight before him.

The woman he saw was petite, a little over 5 feet but she still looked absolutely tiny in his arms. Whatever effort he thought his neighbour had to exert carry his body just tripled. He sequestered the thought for another time however. Right now he just wanted to concentrate on the person in front of him.

She had huge eyes, almost a tad too big for her small face, no doubt made even larger than usual by shock and perhaps even a little fear. It did nothing to detract from their loveliness though. Rich and dark, her eyes matched the colour of her shoulder length hair. Hair he had no doubt would be soft to the touch. He supressed the urge to reach up and brush away those silky strands which fell out of place in the moment of her tumble for it would also have given him a better, unobstructed view of her alabaster face.

However unkind it may be, Ichigo was grateful for her fall as it allowed for their close proximity. He could never called it, how much he pleasure he would find in merely being so close to a person he had just 'officially' met, so close he could catch the faintest whiff of the fruity scent of her shampoo and relish it as well.

She may not be the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on but she was certainly the only one whose physical presence alone managed to charm him to this extent. He would have been a fool not to notice feel the attraction he had towards her. But whether or not he chose to act on the attraction was another matter entirely.

He held her steady, as his eyes continued to look fixedly at the woman so ardently it took his brain more than a second to register that her effort to put more distance between them. Yet at the same time, his thoughts were going a hundred and fifty miles per hour. Everything about this woman was setting off a red light in his head, constructing mental pictures of anticipated events he was struggling to rationalize into subsidence. It was bizarre; he was acting or rather reacting entirely out of character and she was a most unusual cause of it all.

* * *

"Thank you, Kurosaki… but would you mind?" asked Rukia, knowing he would understand what she meant. She 1couldn't quite read his face, much less even begin to guess what was going on in his head as he looked down at her. She noted how he less intimidating he looked when he didn't scowl – probably due to the surprise, how they were so close she thought she would suffocate and how painfully those speechless seconds were beginning to drag. The whole situation was unbelievably awkward. It was such uncharted territory that she began to wonder if she was about to be on the receiving end of a forcefully reproachful protest for all her meddling. It wasn't until he offered his de rigueur apologies and released her that she remembered what compelled him to appear at her door in the first place.

He squatted to get a better look at her swollen knee. She was leaning on her doorframe, scared of putting any pressure on her left leg. Even though she knew of his profession as doctor, having him scrutinise her knee so closely almost made her glad his attention was directed towards her knee and not her face which was currently tinged with the red of her embarrassment.

"I merely twisted it when I fell down, it's nothing, I'll just put an ice bag over it and.." she provided before he could say anything but stopped when he looked up at her with a raised eyebrow. As she agonized over what to say, out of nowhere, he stood up and stated, "You know my name".

Mentally kicking herself for letting that piece of information slip out, she couldn't come up with any answer other than the truth and admitted, "Yes".

"What else do you know?" he asked. The physical pain she was feeling was starting to seem dull in comparison to the psychological pressure that one question placed her in. What should she say? How would she even phrase it? That she knew he was a member of an upper class family that for some unknown reason was slumming in a cheap, one bedroom apartment complex in the middle of a low income residential area? That he was an incorrigible drunk when he wasn't managing a globally acclaimed hospital? That for someone who possessed such vast medical knowledge he was incredibly careless with his own well-being? From what she had seen of him, she doubted he would take kindly to those accounts.

"You're the one who keeps breaking into my apartment" Ichigo said. If Rukia had not known better, she would have taken that as his very pathetic attempt at a joke rather than a mockery towards her seemingly relaxed disposition toward entering a man's residence. However, the haughty manner in which he had said it was enough to hit Rukia's nerve. She mentally laughed at her earlier presumption of his benevolence, now unable to fathom how she harboured an attraction in any way, shape or form towards him. This guy had better manners when he was lying in a pool of his own sick.

* * *

It came out much more of a euphemism than Ichigo had intended. He blamed it on years of having to deal with his mother's side of the family. It wasn't as if he didn't already expect her to know his name, but the confirmation of it just irritated him that much more considering he still had no clue to hers.

The subtle change in the woman's demeanour didn't go unnoticed by him. It was the marginally straighter posture, the slightly upturned chin and the sharp quality to her eyes that wasn't there before. He could tell she wasn't impressed. Not that she would be in light of all their previous encounters, none of which he was conscious for. In a much more confident voice she spoke, "You think way too highly of yourself. An unfortunate fallacy but we both know that's the least of your issues"

Ichigo smirked. He couldn't help it. The bunny had a bite after all.

"How did you know it was me?" she asked.

"I've been here for quite a while.." he said 'Ever since I fucked up' he added in his thoughts. The look in her eyes was enough to tell him she wasn't satisfied with that answer. "All the other tenants were here before I was, except for you. You moved in around the same time I started magically waking up in my apartment to notes with smileys on them. It's all pretty self-explanatory; I'm surprised you had to ask". He just had to add in the last sentence, just because it was amusing to see how she would react to what she would believe was a slight at her intelligence, even if her opinion of him was suffering more each second. In his mind, it might actually turn out better for both of them if her opinion of him was, for lack of a better word, shit.

"Are you sure it's not dissociative identity disorder? You might have another, more considerate personality that didn't like to be so wasted he couldn't even open the door to his own apartment" she said. The sarcasm was heavily implied.

'Mental disorder, amorality and incapacity' Ichigo was enjoying the banter much more than he thought he should. But seeing her wince brought them both back to the matter of her knee, and it didn't look any better than it was before. Funny, he came over mostly with the intention of helping, but now he wasn't sure she would accept his help even if he offered it. So he decided to not give her a choice in the matter.

* * *

She had barely recovered from a sudden jolt of pain from her knee when she felt her body leaving the ground. She couldn't believe the turn of events. Kurosaki Ichigo was carrying her!

"Put me down!" but Rukia's demands fell on deaf ears as Ichigo made his way into her apartment, stopping when he saw what were obviously wedding gifts throughout the room. He gave her that look in which he raised a questioning eyebrow. "Wedding gifts for my best friend" she answered his unspoken question.

"With an emphasis on the giftsss" he voiced.

"They're not all from me moron. We're not from here. Most of our friends back in Rukongai can't make it to her wedding so they sent me their gifts seeing as Rangiku never stayed at an address long enough for her to bother getting her posting address sorted out with the postal services" she explained before adding "And put me down!"

"Gladly" Ichigo said as he walked through the disarray of gifts and setting her down on a chair after which he started touching her knee, eliciting a rainbow of colourful language from her lips.

"It's not twisted. Your kneecap is dislocated, look away I'm gonna set it right" Ichigo said and Rukia cursed. She failed to see the point to the warning since he didn't even give her the chance to look away or even protest before he immediately went to work. Setting it back in place was quick, sharp and painful as hell. The sound she heard made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. She wasn't sure what was worse, her knee or the fact that she now had to thank the 'good doctor' for his help.

"Thank you" she managed in the end.

"What need do I have for your gratitude?" he answered.

Rukia was on the verge of popping a vein. If she knew the person she had been helping was this arrogant ingrate, she would've gladly exercised apathy, at least when it came to anything concerning him.

"Your name" Ichigo said, snapping Rukia out of her internal monologue "I want your name".

**Let me know what you guys think of these two. Yes I know they're a bit OOC but it's a fan fic afterall ^^**


	4. Chapter 4

**There are a few time skips so refer to the dates in case you're confused. **

CHAPTER FOUR: What if

13th June 2012 – 0600 hours

It never occurred to Kurosaki Ichigo that there would come a day when he would realize his own under appreciation for the expression 'familiarity breeds contempt'. Barring his relations and childhood friend – Renji – not in any way did he'd ever allowed his relationships with people to advance beyond the customary superficialities his position necessitated. Likewise, although he had always spurned the Shihoin Clans' exorbitant standards of decorum, for once he wished he hadn't neglected to maintain some form of dissemblance.

He uttered his displeasure with a curse as he brought an arm over his eyes, hoping to shield them from the unrelenting rays of the Japanese sunrise. It didn't do much and Ichigo made a note of getting darker curtains for his office as it seemed like his meagre sleeping arrangements would have to continue for a while. He hadn't been home in the last 48 hours and he was starting to feel the effects of sleeping on a couch. But it wasn't the minor bodily afflictions which were giving him a headache. It was that damnable neighbour of his, Kuchiki Rukia.

The mere thought of her evoked the memory of their latest encounter which only succeeded in adding to his already burdened psyche. He had started to purposely leave for work earlier than need be, just to prevent the situation they were in from getting worse. A situation which was... well it was… "Abso-fucking-lutely indecipherable" Ichigo voiced out loud. One minute it was awkward and uncomfortable, the next they were in yet another contention. They were going nowhere.

It brought Ichigo's train of thought to an abrupt halt. Again. Again! Yet again he caught himself thinking that he and Rukia had somewhere to 'go'. It was wildly unreasonable, illogical and unarguably laughable. Incompatibly screamed when it came to the two of them. And yet, the clincher – the coup de grâce of it all lied in the fact that none of the animosity between them would have mattered had he not have the urge to push her up against a wall and completely overwhelm her every time he saw her face, and to kiss her until she became as obsessed with him as he was with her.

Why did it have to be her? Why, out all the people in existence did Kuchiki Rukia have to be the one to discover how pathetic of a man he was? If she hadn't been his neighbour, if he'd had control of his introduction into her life, if he had wooed her with a practised guise. Would he have already had her? Or more importantly, would he have been able to stop himself from keeping her?

Be that as it may, their encounter 2 mornings ago lacked the usual bickering. They didn't even greet each other. Ichigo tensed as he recalled the look Rukia wore. She could tell he had been looking for something at the bottom of several bottles the night before. But instead of the usual chiding about his drinking as she'd been persisting for weeks, she just spared him one glance before walking away. As far as he could tell, there was nothing judgemental; nothing critical in how she looked at him. It was more akin to sadness; something discernible from pity. It made him vow to never leave that late again. The anger morphed from frustration was enough to make him forgo his own bed if only just to temporarily preclude any chance of seeing her. Because that look was enough for Ichigo to conclude that unlike himself, Rukia's feelings about him were clear cut – disappointment.

* * *

18th June 2012 – 1500 hours

Kuchiki Rukia earned herself a few curious looks when she pressed the 'enter' tab on her keyboard with much more force than was necessary. She was worried. So much so that it was distracting her from work. Because that was what Kurosaki Ichigo was to her at the moment; a distraction to be constantly worried about.

It had been more than a week since she last saw him. The frequency of their meetings had also progressively decreased. Undoubtedly something he had put effort into. Guilt gnawed at her and the memories all the times she had berated him about his issues with liquor only served to intensify the unpleasant feeling. It was all too exhausting; the uncertainty itself was exhausting. If ever there was any scientific design to the stages of human interaction, what would the two of them be? Mutually interested strangers that became acquainted and then meandered off into an unceasing loop of antagonism and objectionable concern? At what point in time even, did badinage and persiflage change into quarrel and dispute? Rukia had no answer.

People don't become physically dependent on anything for no apparent reason, especially someone with a background like Ichigo's. Something wasn't right. The fact that he was even living in Lightberry Heights warranted questioning. She didn't expect him to pour his heart out to her, nor did she ever deluded herself into thinking she could help her neighbour off the path of self-infliction. She wasn't that naive. No. She had long accepted that the world was neither fair nor just in many – too many ways. Thus, seeing someone who had been blessed with everything from intelligence, to looks, to a family with clout leading a divergent life lacking any coherent sequence or connection did more than make her feel sad. It vexed her.

In spite of her earlier declaration of apathy toward him and his overbearing ego, it had been difficult to dismiss the things she had seen him doing just by pure happenstance. The struggling art student living on the ground floor who thought the landlord was a saint for letting him stay even though he was months behind rent never knew that Ichigo had already paid his rent for the following year. The single mother running the local produce store also never questioned his excessive purchases, whereas Rukia knew first-hand that his apartment was nearly always devoid of food. Granted he did look the epitome of ennui in his execution. But with his assets, what might have seemed almost altruistic to most people must have been insignificant in his eyes.

It had to have meant something though. Rukia genuinely wanted to believe it did. Therefore, no matter how arduous he must have found her and regardless of how sanctimonious it had made her look or how guilty it had made her feel; she could've never found it in herself to simply not care.

But the weeks passed by and their constant disagreements started to enfeeble even her formerly ironclad resolve. Such concentration of self-doubt and helplessness were not feelings Kuchiki Rukia was accustomed to, and the fact that they sourced from Kurosaki Ichigo's continual rejection seemed to only make it worse. It weighed her down. So she eventually – although it was still a worry – yielded sufferance.

* * *

19th June 2012 – 1000 hours

It was fanatical – his desire to see her – just as much as it was foolish; for he knew that they would have done nothing but bicker the minute they realized they were in the other's company. At least, that was what would have happened before. Now, Ichigo wasn't so sure, seeing as the atmosphere the last time they came upon each other was civil but cold. Would that be it? Indifference running its course until they were nothing but 2 people who formerly knew each other? The thought made him contract his brows sullenly, unconcerned of how cagey it made the staff around him feel. One poor nurse looked like she was ready to bolt. It was after all, her report the director was burning a hole into as the surrounding temperature dropped by _x_oc.

Still, if there was ever one thing everybody could agree on Mastumoto Rangiku, it would be her natural charm and ability to relieve whatever tension was in the air. A talent she had exercised to help the hapless nurse in question. In wasn't her fault in any case; she was only an inexperienced newcomer to the hospital with no knowledge of how to interpret Dr. Kurosaki's disposition. In a matter of minutes, Rangiku managed to brighten the ambience. Although, the undertaking did prove to be less of a challenge than one would have thought considering how eager everyone was to lift the metaphorical overcast.

"Matsumoto, a moment please", Rangiku mood soured at the curt sound of Dr. Kurosaki's summon.

Rangiku wondered if there would ever come a day when she'll get used to how daunting it was to look him in the eyes. Nevertheless, look him in the eyes she would. There wasn't going to be any faltering. Not even if it was the orange devil himself.

"Yes?" she mustered when they were in semi-privacy.

"About your wedding invitation, I'm afraid I'd have to decline" Ichigo saw the change in her body language before he had even finished the sentence. He wasn't surprised. It was just one of the many wedding invitations he had received from the hospital staff. All of which were due to convention. It was a sign of respect to allow an employer the courtesy to decline. There would sooner be a cold day in hell before anyone working in this hospital actually wanted him at their wedding.

"Don't be, think nothing of it! Of course you're much too busy to attend our little ceremony", Rangiku couldn't help but come across happier than it was appropriate. However, even if Dr. Kurosaki was offended, he showed no sign of it.

"Thank you. Though I'm sure the ceremony will be a pleasant one", he replied in nonchalance, ready to cut the aimless conversation short and leave the bride-to-be to bathe in her own exuberance.

"Yes, I hope so", Rangiku was on a roll "Couldn't have managed without Rukia though that's for sure".

As skilled as he was in the art of pretence, it took more than a little effort to masquerade his body's natural reaction to that name. "Rukia?"

"Yeah, my bridesmaid Kuchiki Rukia. I know, it's not a name you'd hear every day right? She's a journalist at TNN and…" she kept on raving, not realizing that Ichigo had long since tuned her out in favour of searching his memory for anything relevant.

'The wedding gifts in her apartment sent from Rukongai because her best friend...', "_Rangiku never stayed at an address long enough for her to bother getting her posting address sorted out"_. The flashback made sense. So the two women were best friends. Yet Rukia never told her anything about him. He was torn between being impressed with Rukia's discretion and feeling annoyed at how inconsequential he seemed to be to her.

* * *

23rd June 2012 – 2300 hours

As stressful as it had been at times to plan the ambitious event, their zeal did pay off. The wedding was nothing short of a success. Everything went smoothly and the bride and groom looked every bit the happy couple they were throughout the entire day. And now that they were well into the wedding reception, the dance floor only served to enhance their elation.

"Kuchiki Rukia", Rukia turned to the direction of her beckoner and found herself looking a man so tall, she would've been straining her neck to meet his eyes if not for the 5 inch heels she donned. It took her a second to recognize the man before her but when she did; there was nothing that could've stopped her from breaking out her broadest possible smile.

"Grimmjow?! You flew in from Portugal?! ", it was more of a statement than a question, "I didn't think you were going to show. You know, with your history with Rangiku and all" Rukia voiced her surprise. Grimmjow and Rangiku dated for 2 weeks in their 3rd year of middle school. The transience was legendary back in the day. It was a record, even for Rangiku. With his devil-may-care attitude and her effervescent personality, their hurricane of a relationship was doomed from the very start. But it was absolutely the most entertaining 2 weeks they and their close-knit group of friends experienced in their teenage years. Then again, regardless of their amiable breakup, Grimmjow was still her ex-boyfriend and it was common knowledge that their rapport had earned him Gin's rancour. It was why Rangiku herself probably never expected him to attend despite her eagerness in sending out an invite.

"Truthfully, I didn't think I was going to arrive it in time to even make an appearance. They weren't kidding about the delay." Grimmjow replied.

The memory of his departure for his home country came to Rukia's mind. He had left straight after middle school, making this the first time in almost a decade that she had seen him in the flesh. He had always been unfairly handsome, but now, on top of that, he sported the sinewy build of an athlete in his prime. It was easily apparent even through the fabric of his suit. "Are you staying long at all?", the shorter of the two asked.

"No, I only meant to be here for the wedding believe it or not. I fly back first thing tomorrow morning", he answered ruefully, no doubt dreading the impending flight. Rukia gave him a sympathetic smile but then he added with a grin, "Yeah, training for the Olympics takes up most of my time".

Now that was news. "For real?! Judo?", asked Rukia, her excitement for one of her closest friends clearly expressed in the tone of her voice. His affirmation was followed by sincere congratulations and promises to catch up as soon as he was available.

* * *

Rage pervaded Kurosaki Ichigo's being. A quiet rage with such amplitude it radiated off him in waves of excesses. He never intended to attend. He knew where Rukia lived. It would have been imbecilic to even consider putting himself in the ceremonious brouhaha just to see her. So why was he standing there looking like the idiot he was, watching her flirt with some guy in a part of the garden that was all but deserted? How in god's name did he even get there in the first place? And what in the world was he doing walking toward them?

Rukia sensed him before she even caught sight of him. He looked choleric and smelt inebriated although it was positively mild compared to what she had seen before. "Ichigo? But you decli-"was all she got out before Grimmjow pulled her behind him. She had a sinking feeling that the testosterone in the atmosphere was about to thicken as each man started to size up the other.

"You know this guy?", the question aimed at Rukia was answered by Ichigo, "She does".

Their body language grew more aggressive by the second. They were in a predicament. Ichigo was definitely not in total control of his faculties and no matter how strong he may take himself to be, Grimmjow was a trained fighter and in better shape than he was. Knowing that something had to be done before the threat materialized, she rushed amidst the opposing men, urging Grimmjow backward with a shift of her shoulder as she took in Ichigo's stunned visage.

However, Ichigo's surprise quickly evolved into scorn and he turned his attention to Grimmjow, scoffing "Hoping to do the bridesmaid are you?". Grimmjow wasn't going to take the insult lying down but Rukia managed to beat him to the punch.

The sound of skin striking skin reverberated throughout, made deceptively louder by the silence in the air.

Following a brief pause, Ichigo let out a stream of mock laugher as he backed away from Rukia and her beau. He'd had enough of the two lovebirds.

"Ichigo!", Rukia called after Ichigo but by that time he had already put enough distance between them to be out of earshot. She could still feel the sting in her palm. It was awful. Everything had made a turn for the worse.

"What was that Rukia?", Grimmjow was pressing for answers but by then Rukia was already running after Ichigo, "I'll explain later". He never had the chance to retort.

* * *

23rd June 2012 – 2345 hours

It took a while of searching before Rukia finally saw Ichigo's silhouette walking down one of the empty, well lit streets of suburban Tokyo. She ran after him, her bare feet touching the pavement one after the other.

"Ichigo!", she yelled.

He kept on walking.

"Ichigo!"

He didn't look back.

"Ichigo!", she was running out of breath.

"Ichigo…", she took deep breath after deep breath, now trailing mere paces behind him but he still didn't respond.

"Oh for fuck sake stop sulking!", Rukia stopped and called out with all the conviction she could muster.

It proved to be effective for Ichigo was now facing in her direction, "I'm not sulking".

"You are sulking", she declared.

"I'm livid", he retaliated.

"Yet you have no reason to be".

"Be mindful of what comes out of that smart mouth of yours Rukia".

"You're blinded by your own expectation!"

"Expectati?!- . What fucking expectation? . There is no fucking expectation! What - … Fuck!", he turned his back to Rukia, unable to take the sight of her.

"The expectation that everything pisses you off. You're so monomaniacal about it that you start perceiving things that are absent and then jump to conclusions; factitious conclusions which you give credence to because it – as you would expect – pisses you off!"

"Shut up! There's not a thing that could give that conjecture any credibility".

"Look at me!"

He turned in exasperation and looked her dead straight in the eyes when she said the same words for the second time.

"What's the definition of anger?", she asked.

"What?! That's completely non sequitur. Where is any of this even going?".

"Humour me", she was determined.

Ichigo exhaled a breath of frustration. "It's a sentiment resultant of an apparent loss, accredited to a wilful agent, and judged as unjust".

"And have you lost anything just now? What does it even matter to you? No one took anything from you, trespassed against you. No one committed anything that was unfair to you. By all accounts, there was no cause for you act like that back there. Nothing at all save for your own unfounded perceptions."

Ichigo couldn't believe what he was hearing, "I wonder who's really the blind one here".

"Is that supposed to mean something?".

"No! That's the point. It isn't supposed to mean anything. None of it should be of any consequence to me. You! – shouldn't matter to me", one never would've thought that Ichigo was intoxicated at that moment due to how coherent he was. He took a step forward, closing the space between them, consumed by a degree of concentration so strong that it manifested in physical forms. His teeth were clenched, his jaw was set, his posture was rigid and his neck was so taut it protruded his collarbone. There wasn't going to be any reiteration. That then and there would be the one time he spelt it out for her.

Rukia was rendered speechless from just the hushed ferocity of his delivery; confusion markedly visible on her face. Unsure of what was happening; she could do nothing but listen as Ichigo continued, "You invited yourself into my life and subsequently showered me with concern that I never consented to. You badger and you nag even when it's none of your business. You preoccupy my thoughts and it drives me up the wall. You matter, even when I damn well don't want you to be. And I want you, even when it's damn well not of my own volition".

None of them knew how long they just stood there, looking at each other. It was as if time itself had stopped.

"Just now", Ichigo spoke calmly for the first time that night, "That guy you were with was going to take you. I was going to lose you". When Rukia didn't respond, he continued, "Say something – please".

"Don't put this all on me", Rukia began, "Don't you dare put all of this on me. I'm not telepathic! How was I supposed to figure out what was going on in your head? You're two extremities on opposite sides of a spectrum. You're either aloof and detached or you're angry, and the later only gets worse when you're drunk. You don't tell me anything. How am I supposed to understand you? You won't even tell me how you ended up in Lightberry Heights.

"That's the one thing I won't talk about", he didn't want to remember it. He hoped to god he wasn't going to remember it. Not now. Not right now.

"Ichigo".

"Stop", he recalled a body on the ground. Sprawled and broken. Dead.

"Ichigo".

"Enough", he could see the pallid face looking up at him.

"Ichigo what happened in the past?".

"Enough!", No sooner did Rukia ask the question than his fist came flying past her, crashing into the neon sign behind her, so close she felt it graze her ear.

In that moment, Rukia felt nothing but the pounding of her heart, completely petrified. Would he have actually struck her?

Ichigo raised his eyes from the ground and stared at the woman in front of him. The pain in his hand nothing compared to the pain of seeing how scared he had made the woman he loved feel. She was so small. He took 3 steps away from her. She was so, so small. What if he'd actually struck her?

What if he simply lost it one day and struck her?

**I've no idea if judo's even a thing in Portugal but just like some of the stuff you'll encounter in this AU fanfic, they're not accurate to reality or the bleach universe. If I'm pedantic about every little thing, this fanfic is never going to get updated -.-''' **

**Someone also wanted to know why Rukia was living in LH. Honestly, there is no special reason. She's a young adult living in a crowded city with an outrageous cost of living. The place was available and affordable so that's why she's there. Hope I didn't let any of you guys down with that answer. **

**Yeah, this chapter was the hardest one yet so leave a comment if you have anything to say.**

**Cheers.**


	5. Chapter 5

**CHAPTER FIVE: Outgunned**

**(FLASHBACK)**

** 23_rd__ June 2012 – 2357 hours_**

_In that moment, Rukia was too shocked to either blink or breathe but neither dry eyes nor screaming lungs could pry her focus away from the tense, unreadable figure backing away from her. _

_Run away! _

_Rukia wanted to bolt, escape, and scream for good measure. After all, that was what any sane woman in her position would do right? But she could not anticipate what action a man as mercurial as Ichigo would take. Would he give chase and raise his hand against her after he had hunted her down? If he did, she knew his long strides would never let her go far, if at all. Would it be safer to stay still? To provide the least amount of provocation until he calmed down? _

_Both options entailed unpredictable outcomes. However, even through her fear, Rukia reprimanded herself for having cornered Ichigo and herself into their current deadlock. In a sense, she had played the part of the aggressor and now they were in a situation where neither knew how to progress from._

_A shift in his eyes and a sudden jolt of surprise washed through her as an unseen clock tower signalled the arrival of midnight. By the time Rukia's heart settled back down into her chest, she could just see Ichigo's form disappearing beyond a corner. In that moment, every single muscle in Rukia's body seemed to slacken, and the task of supporting her own meagre bodyweight felt herculean. Black clouds spotted her vision as she felt her knees buckle and Rukia readied herself for the pain of hitting the glass-littered pavement. _

* * *

**27th June 2012 – 1130 hours**

It was a scene right out of a bloody fairy tale. That blue-haired pest came running after Rukia with her heels in hand, right when the clock struck twelve. It was embarrassing how recalling the scene could so easily diminish him into nothing more than a jealous moron. Still, he would have opted for a lifetime's worth of embarrassment if he could only undo his abysmal behaviour towards Rukia. He had been a wretched fool, and the shame of his conduct soaked into the very marrow of his bones. How could he have done so wrong by her?

Hypothetical or not, he doubt he'd ever survive the guilt of harming Rukia.

But even with the proverbial so close yet so far distance between them, Rukia was more vulnerable than ever before. Not even half a day had passed since he last laid eyes on the onyx-eyed beauty did he receive a visit from members of the Shihoin Clan carrying an assortment of photographs and video footage of the two of them from the night before. Ichigo broke out in cold sweat watching just how close his fist came to connecting with Rukia.

It was carelessness of cosmic proportions. He should have known better. The Shihoin Clan held and almost oppressive influence over the media and while Ichigo knew they would never consider leaking the incident only to bring unwanted attention, Rukia was different. She was fair game, and he had just made her a legitimate target for the clan. An unsatisfactory response from him would expose Rukia to the very same tyranny it took him 2 decades to overcome.

Rukia had probably washed her hands off him by now but that did not lessen the need for her protection. Nonetheless, there were very few ways he could go about it, especially since Rukia worked in media. It was unlikely that she would voluntarily give up her job and buying TNN was impossible since it was government property. That left blackmail and bribery, but the Shihoin clan eclipsed him in both capacities.

"Keep putting that scowl on your face and I guarantee you'll look ancient before you even hit the big 5-0", the slightly annoying voice of Renji intruded his thoughts before he could even look up to see heavily tattooed man enter his office.

"Sorry sir, he just walked right past me", the apology contradicted with the look she aimed at Renji.

"It's all right Nanao. Thank you", and she left but not before giving Renji another disapproving look, to which he responded by giving her a cocky grin.

"What did you find out?", Ichigo wasted no time on trivialities.

"Nobody from the clan has had any contact with the little lady and so far she has no idea she's being watched", Renji answered. Ichigo brows furrowed deeper, it unsettled him to know that Rukia was being watched.

"You're sure that's all they're doing?".

"Of course I am, who do you think you're talking to?", Renji almost managed to look insulted, and would have succeeded if not for the overly self-assured smug he wore like a second skin. It was not unfounded, however, as Renji was an ex-military man, a reconnaissance specialist with skills once sought after worldwide, who had since retired was now running a dojo in Tokyo. "But, I'm surprised how cool you are with this".

The look he received could have sent a lesser man fleeing but Renji had practically watched the brat in front of him grow up. They have had years to immunize against the others' less desirable traits.

"I mean, the little lady did get taken to a hotel by a guy who's technically your rival, an Olympic athlete, and he probably doesn't have his guts hated by the woman you're so desperately trying to monopolize. Not to mention our entire clan is using her to get to you", he counted.

"He brought her to the hotel where her friend's wedding was held. And he left 20 minutes later", Ichigo parried.

"You could do a lot in 20 minutes", Ichigo's priorities was something Renji found exceptionally fun to toy with even if some of his remarks did earn him particularly grim looks. However, despite the situation Ichigo had landed himself in, Renji couldn't help but feel happy that he'd finally let someone into his life. True, their relationship could've been less of a mess but even geniuses had their shortcomings. Sometimes, Renji wondered why bigger brain were said to be evolutionarily advantageous, since it'd only served to drive Ichigo further into damnation.

Kurosaki Ichigo's birth was never something the Shihoin clan celebrated. He was a product of a coupling that didn't garner the clan's blessing. The clan, so buried in archaic tradition shunned the child even more when bright orange hair started to emerge from his tiny crown. It was too visible, too loud, the colour of frivolity; it was what the clan thought of Kurosaki Isshin and Kurosaki Masaki's marriage, a frivolous affair. For a while it seemed like nothing would ever change the clan's judgement, not even with Yoruichi Shihoin and Kisuke Urahara vouching for the child.

It wasn't until Ichigo defeated Kisuke Urahara, an intellectual by anyone's standard, at shogi, 15 consecutive times, at the age of 3 years old, after only witnessing the game once prior, did the clan realize that the mongrel child might be of use after all.

After Ichigo's possession of prodigiously high cognitive functions was made official and he was suddenly thrust into the role of scion and heir to the Shihoin Clan. Every bit of his personality was forged to custom fit the clan's desires. His hair was dyed black every few months and even then the clan was so paranoid of the colour they all but limited his world to the confines of their own lands where he was polished to the paragon of Shihoin perfection – strong, unfeeling, and impartial – a noble ruler who never showed weakness or mingled with those the clan deemed unworthy. Every aspect of his life was controlled. At school, he had subordinates. He was singled out, and conditioned as someone to be idolized rather than befriended.

His parents and their supporters had no leverage over the matter. The clan was a beacon of superlatives - a collection of the richest, most powerful, most influential families in the country. Hence, an honest child grew up under the oppressive thumb of the Shihoin clan, made to believe if he were sedulous in pursuing excellence and flawlessness, he would be allowed to return to his parents, and a younger sister he'd never met one day.

But even when he'd met every single expectation which was required of him and then some, the clan never truly accepted him as one of their own. Not when half of the blood coursing through his vein descended from non-noble blood.

"But in all seriousness, I'm still waiting to hear how you're gonna evade all this".

"I can't outmanoeuvre them. Not with Rukia involved".

Ichigo held in his exasperation but Renji wasn't fooled. He knew better than anyone that Kurosaki Ichigo was truly perturbed. "So, you're gonna avoid her to avert the issue. You sure you can handle it? You? The idiot who, with just a handful of sober brain cells, managed to get himself across Tokyo to attend a wedding just to catch a glimpse of her all dressed up?".

"I wasn't that drunk".

"Coming from a hedonist, that sentence doesn't signify a thing". Renji's intent wasn't lost on Ichigo but he chose to keep his silence as the red head continued. "Look, I don't know 'exactly' what happened and I'm not gonna pry, but you're going up against an adversary that has you completely, hopelessly outgunned. Forget being dry, you'll need to be ascetic! If not, even you won't win".

**Can't help but cringe . As much as I try to mollify myself by saying "Ehhh.. fanfic, realism.. lol, relax...", still doesn't help much T.T**

**Oh well..**

**Thanks to the reviewers of the previous chapter **

**:)**


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